Iron Man & Ringo don't need no stinkin' maps! (Scotts Bluff NM)

Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Friday, 24 June 2022, Berthoud CO

In 1828 - years before thousands of emigrants passed by here on the Oregon Trail - a trapper named Hiram Scott passed by here with his colleagues. History does not record what happened on that trip, only that Hiram was 'abandoned by his colleagues' and died near a great butte towering over the North Platte River. Today that butte bears his name: Scotts Bluff.

We arrived at Scotts Buff NM at 8:50. Ranger Angela greeted us with a big smile, letting us know that the road to the summit would open in 10 minutes. "Not to worry, we're planning on hiking to the summit." After parking, I got my passport stamp, slathered on sunscreen, grabbed my hiking stick, and we took off. The trail stats: 1.6 miles one-way, with a 450' gain.

I've done this hike before, so I knew what to expect. It starts out with a gentle grade, crossing over prairie hills, before heading up a slot.

After a short walk on a ledge, it cuts through a tunnel and then switches back several times as it climbs steeply to the top.

The trails to the two overlooks at the top crawled with people who'd driven up (e.g., took the easy way).

We visited both overlooks, one toward the Visitor Center,

one towards the north. At the bluff's high point, the USGS had installed a post 90 years ago to mark the spot. Now, nearly a century later, you can see that the bluff has eroded about 6" since then.

By the time we hiked back down, Angela had set up a table outside with a quiz for visitors: can you match the plant name with its picture? The pictures featured the most common plants at the monument, such as prickly pear, yucca, and juniper. After we passed the test, I showed her a picture I'd taken of a different plant, and asked if she could identify it. "I believe that one's a phlox!"

Inside the Visitor Center, we looked around the exhibits and posters. They had an exhibit highlighting the works of William Henry Jackson, an early and noted photographer and watercolorist of the west. The art he created in Yellowstone in 1871 inspired Congress to name it a national park the next year. (Trivia: the exhibit stated that he was the great-grandfather of the creator of Zippy the Pinhead. Don't ask.) At one point, Jackson was engaged to a woman named Carrie Eastman. I asked the ranger, "Any relation to the Eastmans of Eastman-Kodak fame?" They didn't know of any, so apparently the answer is "No."

The displays did have one unique feature: in talking about travelers on the Oregon Trail, it mentioned that often west-bound emigrants would write a letter to the friends and relatives they'd left behind. They would then leave those letters in a saddlebag, which the next east-bound traveler would pick up and carry east. Eventually the letters would reach their destination.

The display included a saddle bag, with the suggestion, "Write about your visit here today, and drop it in the saddlebag. Someone in the future will read that letter you leave. What do you want to tell a future visitor about your experience today?"

Could we - should we - squeeze in one last adventure? I had read that people could explore South Bluff, across the road from the Visitor Center (and Scotts Bluff). When I asked Ranger Kris about it, he replied, "People don't usually go there." (That seemed to be the motto of my whole #60ways challenge!) He continued, "I hiked up there just last week, up to the ridge at least. It gets pretty steep..."

He encouraged us to try it - but told us to check in with him before we start and when we returned, so they can keep track of us. I'm sure he thought, Hmmm - a couple of crazy gray-hairs. Better put the rescue team on alert.

We gave him the thumbs-up, and let Angela know also as we crossed the road to the untrammeled prairie. Is this the scene that greeted the emigrants 180 years ago? No signs. No tracks. No trees. Just scrubby grass climbing up slopes to the steep ridges and buttes.

At least we had no chance to get lost - we'd never lose sight of the Visitor Center.

The game plan - look for the gentlest slope, and avoid the cacti and spiky plants.

Slowly we ascended the hillside, having to cross a few 'canyons' along whe way. When our path to the ridge looked too steep on all sides, we hiked laterally across the hillside, gaining a little more height. At one point, we flushed a deer hiding behind a dying tree.

After ~35 minutes, any further progress would involve scrambling up steep slopes. Save that for a future adventure! Instead, we picked our way down the slopes - a new trail - back to the car.

Angela was happy to see us come back safe, and her smile turned into a look of surprise when I told her about my #60ways challenge. "That is so cool! I'll check your blog out. I'd love to do something like that." (Too bad she wan't 30 years older - I'd try to do matchmaking between her and Bill.)

As we chatted about parks, I mentioned our disappointment yesterday at the Wind Cave tour cancellation. "I heard about that," Angela said. "They actually had tour groups in the cave when the elevator gave out!"

My eyes grew wide as I looked at Bill. Now THAT would have really been an unforgettable adventure!